Coffee
by Alias Gan Ainm
Summary: Heyes knows about the importance of a name, but what will it take to convince Kid? And how will the new name be accepted? First posted elsewhere for a story challenge.


This is my first ever story, unless you count the torturous exercises called "free essays" at school. For several decades I was fully convinced that I lacked the creativity to come up with a plot line, much less write a story. But when reading a certain challenge prompt I immediately had an experience completely new to me: a plot bunny started jumping in my head. Further down you can read the result. When doing so, please keep in mind that English is not my first language (in case you spot any mistakes). A big Thank You once again to my lovely beta reader!

Disclaimer: I do not own the boys - I only borrow them to play a little. My only gain is pleasure in writing the story and I hope others will enjoy reading it.

* * *

><p>They had made camp early that evening. It was time to talk it out, make a decision before they rode into town tomorrow. They just could not go on like this.<p>

Long habit let them do the usual tasks easily. The horses were untacked, rubbed down, watered and then staked out to allow them to graze. Some stones from the nearby creek and quickly collected dry wood from a windfall provided all they needed for a fire. Saddles, shaken out groundsheets and blankets would be their beds. The last of their beans had been used up to cook their meal which had been over far too quickly. They needed new provisions if they wanted to continue on to the destination where a job could be waiting for them.

But now was the time. The most important part of the evening ritual was almost done. They waited in silence, eagerly watched by a pair of eyes from the undergrowth. Once the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the evening air the dark-haired man filled their cups and handed one to his partner. After a few appreciative sips, and a slight grimace on one face, brown eyes sought out blue.

"Come on, Kid. You can't pretend you still carry a grudge. I've seen you give him some jerky when you thought I wasn't looking."

"Alright," came the slightly disgruntled reply. "I reckon he's not so bad after all, but givin' him a name – that's sayin' he's ours. Just don't feel right."

"Uh huh," was the patient reply from under floppy brown hair. After a few more sips of coffee it was followed up with, "but when we get into town tomorrow and a pretty girl asks for his name, you'll be really embarrassed. Or what if you say one thing and I say something else. That would look real suspicious- two men not knowing their own dog's name."

A shrug was the only reply but the dark-haired man was not about to give up so easily. He could see his friend mulling it over. They drank from their cups in silence, no sense to hasten this along. After a questioning glance at his partner's blue eyes he refilled their cups. The dark liquid would help.

The eyes still watching from beyond the flickering flames seemed to encourage him to keep going. "We can't keep on calling him 'Come here'. We're better than that."

Blue eyes looked up resignedly. His partner was on a roll, he would obviously not let it go. Might as well get it over with quickly. "What about 'Boy'? Short, to the point, easy to remember."

Dark eyes sparkled. His partner was getting into the game. "That's all you can come up with? He deserves a name with a little more character. Something that describes him."

The curious eyes which had followed the exchange with interest came a little closer, a shape started to emerge from the bushes. Obviously the watcher thought it was time to make an appearance at this point, to remind the men what he looked like exactly and who he was. It would surely help them to make the right decision. He didn't want to get stuck with a moniker like 'Jake' or 'Butch'. He grinned encouragement at the blond man and sat down expectantly not far from the men.

The blue eyes turned his way at the soft thump, thump, thump sound of a wagging tail hitting the ground. "We could call him 'Rover'. It's a good solid name and he's sure done some rovin' around."

The thumping stopped.

"Nope. Looks like our friend doesn't approve."

Thump, thump, thump. A happy look was directed at the brown haired man. Finally someone who understood him.

The blond man addressed his reply firmly to his partner, he was not arguing with a dog. No way. "Maybe we could go with traditional names like 'Old Yeller' or 'Spot'?"

"But his coat is not exactly yellow or spotty."

Blue and chocolate eyes examined the evenly colored dark-brown coat of the dog who was curious as to where this might be going. The suggestions so far were not promising. He cocked his head hopefully.

"I said like those names. He's brown – so 'Brownie'."

The dog's head slumped down in defeat. This was not looking good.

"You're always thinking of food, Kid. Didn't know you thought he was that sweet. Quite the change from complaining about his breath or calling him 'Hellhound' at first."

"Well, he was howlin' just like one! And we spent two days and nights runnin' from the howlin' and barkin' when YOU thought he was a posse with a bloodhound trackin' us."

A big, proud doggy grin shone their way and tan-colored eyebrows waggled in memory of this exciting game. He had won, of course, even though they had given him good sport with their false trails and riding for long stretches in riverbeds.

A sheepish look from dark eyes accompanied the answer. "I'd rather be careful than get caught again by another posse or bounty hunter, but you must admit he stopped howling as soon as we let him join us."

More sips of coffee. They would need another refill before this was over, maybe even two.

A wicked glint appeared in the blue eyes. "We could call him 'Spooky' – remember how he made your horse jump and you ended up soaked in that stream?"

Ears that had valiantly tried to stand up expectantly during the lull in conversation suddenly flopped down in embarrassment. A little whine escaped his throat as he looked apologetically at the dark-haired human. As hoped for, said human rose to his defense.

"He didn't mean to. And he was really sorry for it. Still is – just look at him."

Whine, thump, thump. Ears pricked up again, but could not quite manage to stand all the way; the upper halves insisted on flopping down. He didn't mind too much. Humans seemed to like it, thought it looked comical and he had learned how to use it to his advantage; nobody can scold you while they are laughing.

"And he did all he could to warm me up again afterwards, curling up on my feet and then sleeping under my blanket."

"Yeah. Good fer ya' Heyes. You remember what he did the next mornin' before the sun was fully up? I don't take too kindly to gettin' slobbered all over my face and my blanket stolen while ninety pound of dog is jumpin' up and down on me!"

"Yeaah, he got you up and fully awake quickly, didn't he?" came the happy reply that made dimples appear on the face looking fondly at the dog. "And it was just in time before our horses wandered off to join the mustangs. Still don't know how they got free that night or where the rawhide hobbles disappeared to."

More sips of coffee. The dog decided this could take a while yet and flopped to the ground. It might also be a good idea to make himself appear small and not draw attention his way just now. Rawhide did taste nice…

"Hum, but we ain't gonna name him 'Alarm' because he's good at waking up people. Just imagine the reaction when we call him in town," a cool blue look was directed at the still grinning man," and don't even think I'll let ya' call him 'Buddy' just because you're so chummy with him."

"Wouldn't dream of it," came the assurance accompanied by an innocent chocolatey look with still one dimple showing.

"And I reckon' ya' won't let me call him 'Fleabag'."

"Nope." A "woof" could be heard simultaneously; well, it had not been a serious suggestion, judging by the expression on the blue eyed man who drank from his cup once more.

"I can't hear you makin' any suggestions, Heyes. Dog got your silver tongue?"

The dark haired man looked assessingly at his blond partner. Yes, he was firmly caught up in the naming game now, no longer thinking about ignoring or denying their new comrade. He himself already knew the dog's name of course. Now it was only a question of making the Kid see. "The way I see it a name has to fit. We've never seen a dog like him and he deserves a special name, no 'Buster', 'Digger', 'Lucky' or 'Scruff'. A name that is HIM. Don't you agree?"

Reluctantly the blond head nodded. He quite liked 'Lucky' and they sure could do with some luck on their side for a change. "Still don't hear ya' sayin' what we SHOULD call him."

"It's not a question of what we should or want to call him, Kid, but I can tell you what his name IS."

A furry head perked up again, ears as erect as they would allow, eyes shimmering hopefully. He knew he was right to have put his trust in this brown haired human.

"It's 'Coffee'."

The dog jumped to his feet, wagging his tail happily. "Woof, woof". He liked the sound of that.

"See? He agrees."

This revelation was met with an incredulous look from blue eyes. "But that's not even a name! How on earth did ya' ever come up with this idiotic idea. I thought ya' were supposed to be a geeenius."

"Kid," his dark eyed partner started patiently, "just think about it. It fits him perfectly. He's dark brown, almost black – just like coffee."

Blue eyes remained cold. He would not be swayed so easily; that name was stupid.

"He has proved that he can keep us awake and alert all night, or help us to wake up quickly in the morning. You said so yourself. Just like coffee."

Quick blue eye roll and a quiet groan; yes, he had walked right into that one.

"And you have to agree he's an acquired taste. First we were not too happy about him, you sure took some time warming up but he has grown on you. Don't try to deny it – I saw you giving him our last jerky, remember? Just like coffee took a little getting used to. When you were still a boy you couldn't understand why the grown-ups would drink the stuff. And look at us now - we wouldn't want to be without it."

Blue eyes blinked, trying to refute the logic, still not quite willing to concede. He drank once more from his cup while his partner went on relentlessly, driving home his advantage with the dog looking on full of approval. It was unfair, the two of them ganging up on him like this.

"And when I was cold and frozen after that dunking in the river you so kindly mentioned, he warmed me up nicely – just like a good cup of coffee would. Don't you see? He IS 'Coffee'."

A small smile appeared for a moment and blue eyes started to crinkle, almost against his will. His partner had done it again and he couldn't help but admire the masterly set-up.

"Just think about it, Kid – when we are in town and call him, he'll be the only dog to come running with that name. You wouldn't want to ride out of town trailed by a pack all called 'Jack' or 'Fido'."

At this, simultaneous shudders went through the blond man and the dark dog.

Quick dark eyes noticed it was time for positive arguments now. "A dog called 'Coffee' is also a great conversation topic. The ladies will be all curious why he's named that. They'll never have heard anything like it before."

Blue eyes looked definitely happier thinking about what opportunities such curiosity might provide. Not that he needed a dog for help, but still...

"And he is the perfect cover for us. Ever seen a wanted poster mentioning Hannibal Heyes or Kid Curry having a dog? Especially one with a name that stands out like his? We'll look just like ordinary, harmless people with a quirky sense of humor."

A nod from a blond head, even if the dog's name didn't really add much to the cover the animal's presence alone could provide; but he did not want to disappoint his partner who was obviously enjoying himself. So he let him continue.

"And in a way it is even traditional – coffee-brown is a color and YOU were all for a traditional name about coat color before. Hey, he could be 'Mr. Coffee Brown'. Goes really well with 'Smith' and 'Jones'. It could be his alias."

A big grin and then laughter would no longer be repressed under merry blue eyes and blond curls.

"Alright. Ya' got me. 'Coffee' it is. Just how long have ya' been plannin' this?"

The only answer was an innocent shrug under a beautiful, dimpled, chocolatey smile and twinkling dark eyes. The owner of the dimples re-filled their cups once more. So it had only taken three cups after all.

Turning to the newly christened Mr. Brown the still chuckling blue eyed man called, "'Coffee', come over here. We have to celebrate."

The canine, on hearing his name, was glad to oblige and bounded to the command with alacrity, throwing himself happily on the ground between his adopted humans and rolled over on his back to give them access for a good wiggly tummy rub. His tongue lolled out of his laughing mouth, and the fluid amber eyes sparkled. This was going to be fun.


End file.
